Battle for Earth: Battle for Irk
by Baseplate
Summary: Third installment. Under the cover of the initial assault, Captain Dib Membrane and his Ghostex team have been sent to infiltrate the underground veins of Vasclorein City to retrieve a military asset for the war effort on Irk. But when Dib discovers the asset's directive, he begins to wonder if the government he works with has intentions he can adhere to.
1. Chapter 1

"Never underestimate what a species will sacrifice for the survival of their people." - Unknown

* * *

><p><span>Prologue<span>

**Vladivostok, Russia, Earth**

**2014**

"Lieutenant, can you give me a situation report, over?" A voice came after the static burst in Tuvia's headset.

Tuvia turned his head right, facing outside the window of the destroyed office building acting as a makeshift command post for the defensive line he and at least three dozen other troops had set up. He reached for the pouch secured to his left upper chest to activate the mic on his headset. "Colonel Ryaba, we're not equipped to defend against an entire Irken Company, let alone an Irken Brigade. We can hold them off for a short period of time, but-"

"Lieutenant. I assure you, the fifth armored column and the second VDV will arrive shortly."

"Colonel, I don't think-"

Tuvia's sentence was cut short by the sound of thundering jet engines washing overhead, a moment later, the street was engulfed in a radiant green light, and the building trembled. Tuvia hit the floor with his hands over his helmet, while the rest of the men in the room reflexively took cover behind the small cubicles and sandbags set up in the large breech in the office building wall.

Tuvia got up on his feet as he watched the smoke surface on the street as words were yelled outside. Tuvia shook off what he felt from the blast and reached for his radio.

"Comrade Colonel?" Inquired Tuvia through his mic. He tapped his radio twice when he received static. "Colonel Ryaba?" More static. "_Chyort._"

Tuvia made his way toward the door that led into the office he and his men were stationed in, he opened the door and ordered the two men outside to call for a medic and help any wounded inside the makeshift command post. He made his way down the small flight of stairs and into the small lobby, where the glass pane windows had been shattered completely and the doors blown off their hinges inward and laying on the floor. Tuvia made his way through the door frame as glass crunched under his boots, squinting his eyes to see through the smoke that slightly burned his lungs trying to find oxygen.

"Kurbashy?" Called Tuvia through the billowing blackish-grey smoke.

"I'm okay, Lieutenant!" Someone called back through the thick haze in raspy voice.

"Kurbashy, what the hell happened?"

"Steel Slicer!" Screamed another through the smoke as the sound of a jet engine blasted overhead, slightly swaying the flow of smoke in a westward direction before raising upward once more.

"Kurbashy, where the hell is it!?" Asked Tuvia, looking upward, trying to look through the smoke. He looked back toward the street. "Kurbashy!?"

"I don't know," Called Kurbashy. "I lost it in the sun!"

"Everyone, find cover, now!" Tuvia screamed as that Steel Slicer opened up with it's main gun as it doubled back for another attack. Tuvia had lost the building in the smoke as he entered the street, he bolted, trying to find another building to take cover in. He had sprinted for a few moments before he realized he had only run deeper into the street, right in that fast movers killzone.

"Lieutenant!?" Someone had called out.

Tuvia looked over his shoulder, toward the voice, and started to sprint toward it, hoping he was fast enough to escape the incoming fire. His chest hollowed out and his heartbeat stopped when the sound of an aircraft blasting over him at super-sonic speeds resounded overhead, and a moment later, just as he saw the doorway to another building, his feet had lifted off the ground as another radiant light pierced the smoke, the shock wave coursed through his body as the fire licked him.

* * *

><p><strong>SinoRus Laboratories<strong>

**One Hour Later**

The steady rhythm of the _beep, beep, beep, _from the EKG was the only thing that accompanied Tuvia in the darkness of his mind. Tuvia felt every muscle of his body burn in pain, screaming against him, and even the slightest movement made him envious of death. That cold feeling creeping up into his legs and chest wouldn't seize, and even as he tried to remember, he couldn't seem to recall the moments that had led up to this one.

"Wow. He looks in worse condition then when we brought him in here." Said a female voice in an echo. "If this procedure can become a success, it'll be one of the greatest advancements in medical sciences."

Tuvia wanted to rip the irritating tubes running down his nose and throat out, he tried to raise his right arm, his body tensed in pain and he let out a slight groan as his body seemed to enter a paralysis and his arm dropped dead to the cold table.

"Wait," The female voice began. "Is he conscious?"

"Yes." Said a male voice.

"So, he can feel what we're doing to him?"

"That is correct. This operation is very complicated. Even the most advanced anesthetics couldn't numb the pain... I'm surprised he's survived as far as he has."

"This is horrible..." The sound of pity hung heavy in her tone.

There was none to be found in the mans voice. "That may be true, but the only reason he is alive is because we haven't used them. His heart rate would have dropped too fast."

"Can he hear us?"

"Yes."

"So... He'll know we did this to him once the operation is complete?"

"No. He won't. We'll make sure of that."

* * *

><p>When Tuvia thought he had "awakened" from the operation, he opened his eyes very slowly, but the room was pitch black. That same black was the only thing that accompanied him aside from the pain and the rapid beeping from the EKG during the operation. The operation had made Tuvia familiar with hell, and by the time it was over, it had transformed him and turned him into this new... <em>Thing.<em>

The words 'SinoRus Laboratories' flashed green at the bottom right corner of his vision.

"I just don't think we're ready to launch the system." Said a man in Russian from somewhere behind him. "There's still a few diagnostics tests we have to run."

"I know," Said another voice. "But Chief Science Engineer Khokol says he wants it running as soon as possible. Besides, his perimeters are set. That should be enough for the time being."

A moment later, another voice, much older sounding in comparison to the first two, sounding a lot more distant than the first two, as if in the corner of the room. "Okay. Start it up!"

Tuvia felt a wash of dizziness and nausea fall over him, and the sound of servo motors behind him could be heard, footfalls a moment later. Someone was typing something into what he guessed was a computer, a moment later, the sound of a door opening and closing could be heard, loud metallic clunks sealing and locking it. A few short moments later, more words on the left side of his vision flashed green.

: / Systems online /

: Gathering data...

: Brain mapping complete :: No errors detected

: All systems performing at optimal output

:Vital signs nominal

Tuvia felt himself shaking, the fear of the unknown coursing through his veins, the green words fizzled away into the darkness, the words 'SinoRus Laboratories' remaining on his right hand side.

: COMMAND

: Load bios :: Memory set

: Memory systems :: OK

Tuvia thought his eyes were already open, but he had felt his eye lids flicker open as all the green words across his vision fizzled away as the light came into his blurry eyes. He found himself in a room, a white cubed room with nothing else but himself standing in it. The sound of a buzzer going off came from behind him, and when he snapped around, finding a doorway with someone standing in it. Tuvia had first thought when he looked into that doorway, he had found a tortured creature that should have been put down instead of trying to be pieced back together, but when he leaned toward it and squinted, shock had set in when he had realized the doorway wasn't that, but a mirror.

Tuvia's quivering breaths grew loud and shallow as he slowly made his way toward the mirror with a slight limp. When he got close enough, he lifted his right arm toward the left side of his face, and his fingers had reached his left eye socket, where the crudely constructed eye with a glowing red pupil had taken place over his old eye.

Tuvia pushed down on his cheek, just under his eye socket, when he did, a vision flashed before his one good eye. For a brief moment he heard himself screaming, feeling himself struggling against the cold, unfeeling restraints holding him down to the equally cold metal table, just as a robotic arm moved in position over him to insert the artificial eye.

Tuvia found himself back in the white room, in front of the mirror. He drew away from his reflection as he raised his left arm, Tuvia found his forearm and hand consisting of, like his eye, crude dark metals. Wires of all sorts had been integrated with metal tubing. He caught a glimpse of his abdomen in the mirror, and instead of finding the section that should have been organic, he found his abdomen, like other parts of himself that should have been there, to be composed of some ugly, dark metal wires and panels.

"_Can he hear us_?" Echoed a voice in his mind.

"_Yes._"

"_So... He'll know we did this to him once the operation is complete_?"

"_No. He won't_."

Tuvia felt a tear stream down his cheek as his face twisted into a knot of anger, and he balled his left hand into a fist, Tuvia raged aloud and smashed the mirror, which shattered into a million shards as the wall it had been mounted to cracked and splintered heavily.

Everything went black.

: COMMAND

: Delete memory :: (!) Files remain (!)

: System reboot :: Failed

: (!) Caution (!) :: Unit command and control: Offline.

* * *

><p><strong>RFS <em>Spire<em> ****HHM-8013, Tuvia's Stateroom**

**2021 (Present Day)**

Tuvia shot up from his bed in his personal stateroom with a gasp and shutter. He scanned the room and eased himself at the realization he wasn't in that cubed room with the mirror. He grasped the wool naval blanket over him and pulled it off, swung his legs off the bed and stood on his two feet. Tuvia sluggishly made his way to the tall, thin mirror across from the foot of his bed and lifted his right arm to touch his left eye. He then looked down to his left arm, then pulled up his shirt.

The engineers at SinoRus Laboratories had done a fine job of creating synthetic skin to cover the crude metals and wires that now consisted of Tuvia's arm, eye, and abdomen. But Tuvia knew what he was, the scars would never heal, and the memories that came during his sleep would never go away, no matter how much the engineers tried to prevent them.

Tuvia sighed and pivoted around to face the foot of his bed and made his way toward it. He had walked about four feet and dropped to his knees, he then coupled his hands together by interlocking his fingers in between one another and placed them on his bed. Tuvia closed his eyes and placed his forehead on top of his hands.

Tuvia drew a sharp, deep breath, and spoke in a low voice as he executed a routine part of his day. "Full of tears shall be that day on which from ashes shall arise the guilty man to be judged; Therefore, O God, have mercy on him. Gentle Lord Jesus, grant me eternal rest. Amen."

Tuvia stayed a moment.

Tuvia was guilty all right.

Tuvia was that guilty man who should have died time and time again. But those men wouldn't let him rest, and it brought eternal sorrow upon him to know that no matter how many lives he tried to save on the field, they'd end up gone, and he'd have to carry that memory on until those same men decided he was outdated and to be replaced. Only then would God answer his prayer.

_'Soon,' _Tuvia thought, eyes still closed with his head to his hands. _'They'll have more technology to work with... Then I can rest.'_

"Commander?" Called a voice from outside his room as they racked a knuckle of the steel door.

Tuvia's eyes snapped open, he freed his hands as he rose to his feet and made his way toward the door. Tuvia reached the door and pressed his eye to the doors fish eye located atop a steel slat center mass of the large door, spotting a familiar face standing in his black naval uniform, waiting for him to answer the door. Tuvia was about to undo the lock to the door and open it, until he had realized he was still only in a simple white t-shirt and underwear.

Tuvia flicked the latch beside the fish eye upward and slid open the foot long piece of steel that would allow him to come face to face with the person outside the door without actually opening the door and embarrassing himself by being caught out of uniform. You had a better chance of spotting big foot more than catching Tuvia out of uniform or combat gear.

Tuvia leaned in closer to the door and looked at Lyuty standing outside the door, facing down to a metal clipboard grasped in his hand. Lyuty came to find Tuvia every few months, and Tuvia had thought he could go at least a few more before his next checkup.

"Yes, Lyuty?" Asked Tuvia, pretending as if he didn't know why the Chief Warrant Officer had come looking for him.

Lyuty looked up from his clipboard with his big blue eyes. "Morning Commander. It's o' eight hundred local and it's about that time again, says Senior Lieutenant Melekhin."

Tuvia hated meeting with the man. Hell, he hated anything to do with SinoRus Laboratories, but Melekhin was just enough to send him over the edge. Tuvia just simply nodded and placed a hand on his cheek and dragged it downward.

"Yeah." Said Tuvia.

Lyuty just stared at him for a moment before writing something on the sheet of paper attached to the clipboard, then faced him once more. "Commander, have you been experiencing any difficulties? I can have someone assist you to-"

"No, I'll be there."

Tuvia sighed and shut the slit on the door and locked it before walking away from the door and toward the closet to the left of his bed where he stored his finely pressed uniforms and his polished boots. Tuvia slid open the metal doors and started to dress himself. After he pulled on a pair of socks, he had put on a pair of black dress pants, he then buttoned up a white dress shirt and tucked it under his pants. Tuvia then unhooked his black naval gymnasterka jacket with the shoulder boards with the appropriate rank. Tuvia had finished off his uniform by slipping on a pair of leather dress shoes and walked toward the door.

Tuvia rested his hand on the main latch of the steel door and paused a moment. Did he want to turn that latch, open that door, and continue a life he didn't want? He could just sit in that room and make a blockade of all the objects in that room and just sit there until he died of spontaneous combustion, which in his case, was quite possible. Then again, what kind of man would he be if he didn't carry out his fallen comrades wills, the ones they begged for him to carry out.

He disengaged the lock to the large steel door and pushed it open to find Chief Warrant Officer Lyuty still standing there with his clipboard, he looked up from his clipboard and latched it onto the hilt of his utility belt wrapped around his waist. Lyuty simply stood there, waiting for Tuvia to leave the threshold of his stateroom.

_'Soon. This'll be my last checkup. Soon...'_

Tuvia stepped out.

* * *

><p><strong>Fifteen Minutes Later<strong>

Tuvia sat at the metal desk placed in the middle of the white, cubed room that one of the engineers had led him into. His breath was shallow, trying to hear something beyond the walls of the familiar, nightmarish room.

Tuvia nearly flinched at the whoosh of a pair of two large wall panels splitting apart in front of him to reveal a grey blast door, the door unlocked with a couple metallic clunks, and like the wall panels, it had opened up to reveal something behind it. The tall slender figure wearing a red jumpsuit with a black belt around his waist and black shoulder boards attached to the jumpsuit walked forth from the threshold of the door, and it closed along with the wall panels.

The figure wearing a bad black hairdo and a pair of old round spectacles in the jumpsuit could be identified as Senior Lieutenant Melekhin, or so he'd like to be addressed aboard naval ships_._ Tuvia knew damn well who he was, he was one of the Chief Engineers of SinoRus Laboratories, and he was responsible for Tuvia's 'checkups'... Routine system diagnostics, repairs, tweaks and upgrades.

Tuvia wanted to take his fist and smack that smug smirk off that bastards face as he approached the table.

Melekhin started to speak in Russian. "So, how are we doing today, designation FY7-1M? I hope-"

"My name is Tuvia." He retorted. "My name is Tuvia Volochenko, and I am a human being, not a piece of military hardware."

Melekhin pulled the seat across from Tuvia and took it, then set down an electronic clipboard he had attached to his belt and set it down on the table before he spoke again. "Forgive me... Tuvia." Melekhin started, then clasping his hands on the table and slightly leaning in before continuing. "This isn't a routine checkup, Tuvia."

"I knew I wasn't supposed to be here for another few months. So we're done here."

Tuvia pushed away from the table and rose to his feet.

"No, we're not." Said Melekhin sternly. "Sit."

Tuvia just stood a moment and stared down to Melekhin, who stuck out his left arm and gestured for him to sit as he raised his brows. Tuvia let out a frustrated sigh and took the seat again.

"Tuvia, this order had been decided by all the Chief Marshals... Marshal of the Russian Federation Voiska and President Harkov made the final decision. The fate of our mission rests solely in your hands."

"What kind of joke is this?" Tuvia huffed.

"Tuvia, I'm being serious."

Melekhin spun the electronic clipboard around on the table and slid it over to Tuvia's end of the table. Tuvia eyed the clipboard for a moment before drawing in a sharp breath through his nose and exhaling loudly out his mouth before pulling his seat in to examine the clipboards screen. Tuvia grasped the clipboard with his left hand and scrolled down the touchpad with his right index finger, and when he had read over the screen, his face twisted into a knot of confusion.

"Melekhin, you're a fool."

"Tuvia, this mission file is to be wirelessly downloaded into your memory. The mission file isn't even eyes only."

Melekhin leaned closer toward Tuvia, reached for the clipboard and placed his index finger on the touchpad and flicked it toward himself, scrolling the screen downward all the way. When the screen had stopped at the bottom, Tuvia turned his attention to the clipboard once more. Tuvia read the words 'DOWNLOAD FILE' at the bottom.

"Just scan your thumb and ID code, then your mission will be briefed electronically." Explained Melekhin.

Tuvia lifted his right arm and stuck out his thumb, then hesitantly inched his thumb toward the inch by inch square at the bottom of the screen. He looked up to Melekhin, who was silently staring at Tuvia through his glasses. Tuvia looked back down to the square at the bottom of the screen and pressed his thumb to it. The screen scrolled out a small form asking for his credentials, he entered them, the sound of ringing echoed lightly in Tuvia's ears and he felt the static in the air.

The information came to him in a flash, and his gaze darkened in the direction of the device.

The greatest honor had been bestowed upon him.

This was his chance to restore pride to his people and the motherland.

But... He had always blamed the Irkens for what he had become.

_Nyet._ This wasn't for honor, it was revenge now.

(End prologue)


	2. Chapter 2

"Without the use of words and reason, we'll let our actions speak of our intentions." - Aleksy Harkov, Russian President

* * *

><p><span>Chapter One<span>

**One Kilometer Inside Irken Main Defense Wall**

**22 Kilometers From Tallest Tower, Miyuki Square**

**0240 Hours Local Time, June, 2022 (Present Day)**

The Russian campaign was going well, so thought Colonel Vladimir Orlovski, callsign Sokol, acting commander of the first combined arms battalion. Sure, the initial arrival through the Einstein-Rosen Bridge in Irken occupied space was a bit... Problematic, at first. Not to mention the landing and setting up of a staging area on the planet of Irk, but, overall, given the fact they suffered little loses within the first two or so weeks, they were doing good.

Then again, Colonel Orlovski wasn't as excited to be here as the other officers were. Colonel Orlovski led men in previous wars back in the early two thousands, when extra terrestrial warfare hadn't even rested in the back of the Colonel's mind. He had also went through the meat grinder that was Moscow when the extra terrestrials no one ever thought to come to Earth, had indeed, arrived on Earth.

Colonel Orlovski engaged the Irkens in one war, and believe him, once was more than enough.

"Soon." Whispered the seasoned colonel to himself as he held the pair of digital binoculars to his eyes, standing in the hatch of a T-99 Armata universal combat platform. "Soon..." He whispered again, letting out a deep sigh.

The sound of helicopter rotors drew closer somewhere from behind Colonel Orlovski, the aged man set his binoculars down beside the pintel mounted NSVT machine gun, he turned his torso in the hatch of the turret and searched the sky. It took no more than five seconds to spot the incoming Kamov Ka-62, a modernized version of the origina design designated Ka-27, coming in for a landing no doubt as her gear retracted from her belly.

Army Command had told Colonel Orlovski a few days prior to the launch of his mission that they would be attaching a "special" officer to his battalion and sending it to him to act in advisory capacity. He hadn't received any transmissions that another crew was landing in the area, so that this had to be the "special" officer arriving now.

Colonel Orlovski ran his right hand through his graying buzz cut, pulled himself out of the hatch and cautiously made his way off the tank, and made his way toward the landing bird as it's gear touched down to the ground, if you could call the concrete "ground," because there was no dirt, or anything really organic on the planet. Colonel Orlovski halted himself about ten meters from the craft as the rear cargo door lowered with a hydraulic whir.

Colonel Orlovski raised his right arm to shield his face from the wind projected from the choppers powerful co-axial rotors, and he squinted to try and see past the dust being kicked up from the ground, but there was just too much of it for him to see past. The Colonel turned his head away from the dust, closing his eyes and closing his lips tighter, he couldn't believe how much dust there was on the ground.

Shortly after, the air got heavier as the chopper started to lift off, and within a moment, it banked left, and was gone as the dust began to settle. Orlovski coughed as he raised his hand to his mouth and turned back to where the chopper had landed and taken off from. There he stood in the dust, wearing his grey uniform with blue shoulder boards and collar tabs. The crown of his visor hat the same dull, medium grey color as his uniform, the band of it that same shade of azure blue as his collar tabs and shoulder boards.

The uniform reminded Orlovski of his grandfathers KGB uniform. In truth, the uniform had actually taken after the KGB style, but it did not belong to the KGB, because the KGB had been disbanded during the collapse of the Soviet Union. The uniform belonged to another intelligence/ security group known as the Special Purpose Security Group, or the SPSG. The SPSG was similar to the GRU in almost every way, save the fact that only a select few knew about it, and if you were a foreign military element carrying any intel on them, chances were that intel wouldn't be carried far.

_'Lebedev.' _Orlovski thought to himself as he clasped his hands in front of him.

"Comrade Major Lebedev, it has been a while." Said Vladimir as the Major made his way toward the Colonel with a folder tucked under his arm.

"It has indeed, comrade Colonel." Replied Lebedev.

"I was just wondering who they would send to babysit me." Said Vladimir, half smiling in amusement.

"Your command is the key to this whole endeavor comrade," Said Lebedev jokingly. "How could they send anyone but me?"

Vladimir's face twisted into a knot. "Your sense of self importance hasn't lessened, I see."

"But I am pretty important," Lebedev placed his free hand on his chest and slightly bowed forward. "Am I not?"

Vladimir clasped his hands behind his back and shot a dry glare in Lebedev's direction.

"Or at least my dear old step father is." Said Lebedev half laughing, causing Vladimir's hardened gaze into a face of joy as he too, began to laugh.

"It's great to see you again old friend." Said Vladimir, reaching out with open arms to give one of his old friend a hug. Lebedev rolled his eyes and grasped the folder in his hand and opened his arms to receive the hug from Vladimir. They each patted each other on the back and broke from their embrace.

"So," Lebedev turned his torso to observe the vehicles in place. "How are we doing?" He asked as he pointed in the direction of the wall.

Vladimir placed a hand on the Major's back and began to walk, and Lebedev followed as Vladimir began.

"Everything is in place," They walked about ten feet, away from the soldiers making preparations to their vehicles before Vladimir stopped and leaned in closer to speak in a lower voice. "I can't say I'm very happy about all this."

Lebedev placed his free hand on Vladimir's shoulder. "The politburo knows what is right," Lebedev nudged Vladimir in the chest softly. "We're powerless but to obey."

Lebedev started to walk off, opposite of the vehicles and toward the inner wall of the Irken defensive wall.

"So they have decided?" Asked a shocked Vladimir.

Lebedev simply turned around and gave the Colonel a worried look.

Vladimir turned around to face the troops he had directed Lebedev away from. "Get me Lieutenant Romanov on the horn. I want him to make a final survey on the forward forces with Captain Malashanko!"

The soldier he had issued the order to snapped to and saluted, he then ran over to the trooper manning the long range communications station set up by a GAZ-2330 Tigr, Orlovski could hear him yelling something in Russian to the other trooper, as he nodded his agreement and got to work with contacting Lieutenant Romanov.

Vladimir slowly walked to Lebedev and clasped his hands behind his back, looking off into the distance of grey.

"When?" Asked Vladimir.

Lebedev stood a moment. "Soon..."

* * *

><p>"Remus, this is Ghostex Lead, over?" Whispered Dib into his mic.<p>

"I read you, Captain." Replied the whispering Phoenix through his headset.

"You see what I'm seeing to your three o'clock?"

"Yeah," Volker paused a moment. "I bet I know what you're thinking too."

"Get into position. Hold for my signal." Said Dib before he started to crawl out from his prone position under an Irken tracked vehicle, it reminded Dib of a DMOV, perhaps it was one of the many modified variants of the vehicle. Dib was now in the open, sitting there crouched in the dim sunlight as the sun started to come over the horizon. Dib looked right to find Volker coming out from behind a concrete building.

Dib had his back pressed to the front of the armored vehicle, two Irken dismounts stood to his left, about twenty feet or so, facing opposite of him. No doubt dismounted from the tracked vehicle, Dib knew no one was inside the vehicle, cause when one of the tracks had been blown off by an anti infantry mine, the operators dismounted and went for a repair vehicle to get their own vehicle rolling again.

He spotted Volker sneaking along the wall of another complex, where it was still heavily shadowed. Dib let the grasp on his weapons trigger falter as he raised his arm into the air, fanning out his fingers and nodding in Volker's direction. The Phoenix, still undetected by the enemy, halted and took aim with his silenced weapon.

He waited a heartbeat, closed his fingers into a tight fist, and within a moment, Volker had dispatched the two Irkens with quick and silent precision. Their bodies slumped, bleeding from their necks and gasping for air. Dib nodded again and signaled for Volker to cross the street over to his position. Volker looked left and right from the shadows, then started to sprint to Dib.

"Ghostex Lead, this is Zavezda, do you receive my transmission, over?" A whisper bathed in a Russian accent broke into Dib's ear through his headset.

Dib sighed and cued his mic. "Zavezda, Ghostex Lead reads you, over."

Dib had exclaimed his protest about the Russians linking another team to his when he didn't need the extra baggage on the mission. Having them on stand by to save their butts should they be compromised was a great idea, but, there was little chance that would happen. Regardless of the Russians being a shard of Prokofiev Delta, Dib didn't like the idea of other men snaking around along with his team too much.

"We're in waiting outside the Irken anti air site. Minimal security at this time. We're standing by for your arrival, over."

"Copy that Zavezda, Ghostex Lead out."

Dib switched off his mic as Tristan arrived, his breath visible in the cold Irken air.

"So where do you go from here, Captain?"

Dib swung his weapon onto his back, letting it hang on his sling, reaching down to a large pocket located on the right thigh of his BDU pants. He fished out a small tablet, pressed a finger to his Cross-Com secured to the right side of his head and started flicking the same finger over the small touch pad tablet. In a few short moments, Dib turned his torso to the right and craned his head.

"That way, less then five hundred meters. Let's move."

"Copy that."

* * *

><p>"What was Comrade Lieutenant Romanov thinking when he sent us here?" A voice asked in a Russian whisper.<p>

"I don't know, Pyotr. We just have to listen to and follow his commands." Replied another whisper.

A figure lying prone next to the other in the shadows of a complex nodded is agreement and lowered the pair of binoculars from his face and pointed toward the large site hundreds of meters to their front.

"They have one scout ship lining the perimeter with a search light. Guard towers on each corner of the site, they appear to have a stock of weapons but not enough men to use them."

"Maybe luck is with us."

Pyotr huffed. "It never has been."

Pyotr, the one who had questioned their mission directive raised his arms once more and pressed them to his face. Vadim, Pyotr's cell partner grasped his mic and pulled it closer to his lips, activating it and hailing the second cell of 'Zavezda,' a paratrooper unit within Prokofiev Delta.

"Spartak, it's Vadim, are you receiving my transmission, over?"

There was a short pause, and it caused concern to flood Vadim's thoughts because it took no longer than two seconds for Spartak to respond. Spartak and his partner, Rodion, were a lot closer to the anti air site than he and Pyotr, so the thought that they had been discovered was definitely a cause for concern.

"Yes, receiving clearly, over." Replied Spartak.

Vadim sighed his relief. "I thought you'd been stumbled upon by a patrol, Spartak. I need camera feed from your angle to make a route of approach, over."

"Copy, Vadim. I'll have the camera up in a moment. Spartak, out."

Vadim switched off his radio and fished a map out of the chest pouch of his modular armor system and unfolded it. Though the Russian Army had access to advanced technology on the field, especially Prokofiev Delta operators, Vadim as well as the rest of the members of Alpha Group of Zavezda preferred to use hard copy documents and maps on the field. Less detectable, didn't emit any light sources, and if central communication had been cut off, you'd still have access to one another as well as mapping of the field.

Vadim studied the map laid out in front of him, panning his finger over a route he had made with a sharpie pen and mumbling the plans he had went over with his team to himself. Vadim heard something from behind him, boots on concrete, little rocks crunching under them. He quickly upholstered the silenced MP-446 "Viking" pistol from his right leg, brought himself up into a crouched position and took aim.

It was a human. _Gov'na_.

Vadim lowered his side arm and inhaled deeply before sighing and shaking his head.

"Easy," The man in black combat gear said in an English accent, the other man behind him in the same black with his rifle raised. "We're friendly."

"Forgive me," Said Vadim. "You came too close unannounced, American." Vadim said holstering his side arm, he stuck out his hand to shake the American's. Dib looked at his hand a moment then took it. "Chief Warrant Officer Vadim Glazkov, acting commander of Zavezda cells one through three." Said Vadim, turning his head and pointing at the man lying prone, staring through a pair of binoculars. "And this is my second in command, Sergeant Major Pyotr Saburov."

Dib looked over to the man in the typical digital flora of the Prokofiev Delta operators who had been staring through a pair of binoculars balanced on his elbows. Pyotr had taken his left hand off of the left scope of the binoculars and waved his arm once before returning it to the scope again.

"Captain Dib Membrane, acting commander of Ghostex: Delta 6's Team One." Dib pulled his hand away from the Russians and put his finger just over the trigger of his weapon again. "So what have we got?"

Vadim made his way to his map and beckoned for Dib and Tristan to follow him over to the map. Dib took up a spot to Vadim's right while Volker took up a spot in between Vadim and Pyotr. Vadim pointed out a spot on the map as he looked up to the site and pointed with the same finger. "I'm sure you're aware Senior Lieutenant Romanov wants us to neutralize that anti air site before the initial assault on the inner city begins."

"I've been briefed, yeah." Said Dib.

Vadim nodded, then returned his eyes to the map. "We have one Irken scout ship circling the perimeter. Four guard towers on each corner of the site as well, only three of which are manned. I have one team observing from another complex, and another waiting by the entrance of the sewers where you will be led to so that you may continue with your mission once we're done here."

"Sounds easy enough." Quipped Volker.

"Don't be so sure, American." Said Pyotr from his prone position.

Vadim, as well and Dib and Volker glanced toward Pyotr.

"The moment stop respecting your enemy, that, that is when they will kill you."

"Right." Said Dib. "So where's our infiltration point?"

"Here." Said Vadim, pointing at a spot on the west side of the anti air site. "We move in from here. Take out the guard at the entrance and far right tower. Plant DMX explosives on the emplaced weapons, then we guide you to your objective, here." Vadim pointed out another spot on the map.

"Sounds like a good game plan." Said Dib.

Vadim's brows furrowed in confusion and gave Dib an odd look. "This is no game, Captain."

Tristan and Dib looked to one another. Tristan shrugged. Dib raised his brows and sighed, readying his weapon. "Let's move." Said Dib, advancing in a crouched position with his weapon raised, Tristan in tow. Vadim snatched up the map from the ground, folded it, and stuck it back into the chest pocket of his jacket under his armor and tapped Pyotr on the shoulder as he started to fall in behind Tristan with his weapon ready. It was not long before Pyotr was following behind Vadim.

* * *

><p>It had been nearly fifteen minutes of crouching through the streets and under the shadows of complexes, and Dib, Tristan, and the two Russians had finally reached the entrance of the anti air site. The scout ship had just passed no more than ten seconds ago, and it would be another fifteen or so before it would make another pass near their infiltration point.<p>

_'Volker was right,' _Dib thought. _'This seems way too easy.'_

Dib figured one of two things could be happening here. One, the Irkens didn't find this site to be a priority and would rather fortify their positions behind the second, much smaller than the first defensive wall. Or two, they knew someone would see this anti air site as a small and weak target, and had set a trap for them, that an attacking force would have been too blind to see.

Either way, Dib had a feeling resting in the pit of his stomach that wouldn't go away. He could have expressed his concern to Vadim, but both he and Vadim knew that it would take time for any other option to become. Vadim would contact his Lieutenant, the Lieutenant would contact his Captain, the Captain would contact his Major, then finally the Major would consult with the Colonel. The process would reverse, then Vadim would receive a message telling him he would continue on with the mission, by that time they would have burnt time and they'd be exposed to the light, where no sneaking could be done.

So Dib decided he'd keep it to himself and just see what would become of the attempted neutralization of this Irken anti air site.

"Understood, Spartak. Vadim, out." Said Vadim, speaking into his mic. "We have one AM ten quad plasma cannon, and one VD eighty two Nova launcher. That's enough fire power to take out a flight of transports with little to no effort. Those are our targets."

Dib nodded and activated his Cross-Com. "Lakota, have you and Schleck linked up with cell two?"

"Yeah, Captain. Me and Schleck are in the complex east of the anti air site. Schleck's set up on the roof. We're waiting for your word to move on the eastern wall, from there we're going to move to the primary objective once we link up."

"Roger that, sit tight. Out."

Dib cut the link with Lakota and turned to Vadim. "Ready?" Asked Dib.

"There's not a moment I'm not, Captain." Said Vadim, raising his silenced weapon and taking aim. "I've got the one in the tower. Ground?"

"Secure." Said Pyotr, scanning the entrance through the scope of his silenced rifle.

The moment Vadim squeezed that trigger and the weapons silencer did it's job of keeping them undetected, the Irken Imperial Trooper up in that tower caught the bullet Vadim squeezed off to the head and slumped silently in the tower.

"Go." Whispered Dib.

Dib started to move froward in a crouched position, weapon still at the ready, Tristan and the others in tow. Dib made his way across the street like road with the others and entered through the compound entrance, just as the Irken Scout Ship rounded the corner and made its way to the entrance, it's search light scanning for anything out of the ordinary.

Dib urged them to take cover as they scrambled to hide behind anything where that Irken Scout Ship couldn't spot them should it's pilot choose to search the inner area of the entrance. Dib took cover under the guard tower with Tristan, hugging the concrete wall behind them, closer to the ship and out of the light. The two Russians had rolled under a trailer like structure on the opposite end of the entrance.

Dib leaned forward to get a fix on that ship, and the moment he had, the light from it's belly blinded him and he shot backwards, slamming his back to the wall. The ship continued forth. At least it hadn't seen him.

"Captain," Vadim's voice came through Dib's headset. "We're on the move. We'll plant on the Nova launcher on the eastern side. You plant on the plasma cannon, Vadim out."

"Copy that Vadim. Ghostex Lead out."

Dib gestured for Tristan to move along the wall, toward the corner of the compound, where the quad plasma cannon rested less than three hundred meters from in it's gun nest like position. Tristan nodded and started to move along the wall, under the cover of the shadows, Dib following close behind.

Tristan and Dib moved along the wall swiftly, vaulting over obstacles, crouching under objects that hovered above the ground on their steel legs, all while maintaining their momentum, and in less than five minutes, they had made it to the far north western corner of the compound, and now stood less than a few hundred meters from their target.

_'Way too easy.' _Thought Dib as he scanned the area from the shadows with the barrel of his rifle.

"Volker," Said Dib as he continued to scan. "Am I the only one who finds this highly suspect?"

"They're behind enemy lines, Captain," Began Volker, also scanning with his rifle crouched in the shadows. "There could be stronger fortifications behind the safety of that second wall. My guess is these poor bastards were left behind and were forced to defend it."

"I've still got a bad feeling about being here."

"It's your call, Captain."

Dib stood there for a moment, contemplating both the good and bad of the situation. On one hand, they could speed up the efforts of the Russian Army by keeping them focused on the wall rather than this site. They could also save a lot of lives. On the other hand, they could get caught up in a firefight and risk putting them behind schedule. But the second outcome that went through his mind was less likely than the first.

"Go. I'll fall in behind and cover."

Tristan nodded and began to move forward, but before he had the chance to come out from the shadows, the sound of propulsion wash, no doubt from an Irken aircraft, caused him to fall back into the shadows like liquid. Tristan lowered his weapon and looked to the sky, where nearly five Spittle Runners accompanied by as many Voot Cruisers blasted overhead.

"What the hell's going on?" Asked Tristan.

"Stay down," Said Dib. "Zavezda cell one, this is Ghostex Lead, come in, over?"

Dib waited for a response, but before he got one, the scout ship that had been circling the perimeter slowed overhead, the searchlight mounted to her belly scanning the area to Dib's front as another Voot Cruiser escorted by two Spittle Runners came in for a landing as it's gear unfolded from the rear and front.

"Ghostex Lead, this is Vadim, what the hell is going on?" Whispered Vadim.

"They're landing right in front of us. Continue on mission, but initiate radio silence and don't get caught, Ghostex Lead out."

Dib reached for the long range radio on his back and switched it off, followed by the deactivation of his Cross-Com. Tristan switched off his electronics just as quick. The Voot touched down, and the moment it had, the rear hatch had dropped. The bright heavenly light from the rear of the aircraft made the figure stepping out seem like some sort of Irken God.

The figure walked out with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing a disgusted look on his face as his rugged antenna went flat to his skull. He scanned the area with his pale blue eyes.

Dib didn't recognize the uniform. The uniform consisted of white coat like top with black armor pieces; shoulders, chest, a single lining down the arms. A black belt wrapped around his waist and secured itself from the front with a buckle that resembled the Irken Empire's insignia. The lower half of his body donned a pair of grey combat pants with integrated black knee pads that seemed to be attached to the long black boots reaching just under the knee.

The only part about the Irken that really stood out aside from the fact he was wearing a uniform Dib had never seen before was the fact the creature was donning a white aiguillette attached to his right shoulder, one single loop running under his arm and about three separate strands connecting to the center of his chest.

Dib activated his Cross-Com to get a picture of the Irken in the uniform of unknown origins. Dib's heart sank when the Irken, it seemed, looked directly at him, as if he sensed the activation of the electronic monocle attached to his eye. Dib switched it off, but if the Irken had sensed his presence, it was too late. The Irken stepped off from the ramp and onto the concrete.

And Dib was left with no other option then to raise his rifle when the Irken began to make it's way toward him and Tristan.

(End Chapter)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Two

**Two Kilometers Inside Irken Main Defensive Wall**

**20 Kilometers from Tallest Tower, Miyuki Square**

**0325 Hours Local Time**

"_Captain_." Exclaimed Tristan ever so silently in desperation.

Dib looked down, weapon still aimed forward. Tristan was crouched beneath Dib, his weapon aimed forward as well. That empathetic look, the one that said Tristan needed an order to follow in a situation so close to death. It reminded Dib of that rainy day in Seattle, as he and Arkady were about to enter the alley way to bury those Irkens and link up with the rest of Alpha team.

Dib looked up and lined up his sights, telling himself that the cover of a Russian Spec Ops team wasn't worth the life of another team member.

Someone yelling in the distance; not English nor Russian, but Irken. The yells were enough to make the approaching Irken them turn around, just in time for the fireworks.

The cold Irken night air lit up in a brilliant ball of blue flame tinged with purple as the ground shook from underneath Dib's boots, nearly costing him his balance as the shock wave rippled throughout the base.

The Irken a few yards away from Dib and Tristan didn't even flinch, he just stood there and watched the flaming mass grow bigger and higher into the night sky, two Irkens burst out from behind the Voot Cruiser and thundered down the ramp and toward the blast, plasma rifles at the ready. Another Irken simply walked out from behind the Cruiser and looked to where the blast had originated from, then to the Irken in the uniform.

"Colonel?" Said the Irken pilot in his dark purple uniform in his native tongue.

"It seems we'll have to skip inspections of the outer defenses." Replied the Irken began as gunfire and plasma discharge erupted in the distance. "Contact Major Ade and tell him he better have his men ready and those positions fortified."

"Right away, Colonel." Said the pilot, then saluted and returned to the interior of the ship.

The Irken snapped around again to face the location he had been approaching, just as Tristan switched off his Cross-Com. Maybe with some luck, they could figure out who this Irken was. Just as it seemed like the Irken was going to make his way toward Dib and Tristan again, the two Irkens who had rushed off returned, one embarked upon the ship, running up the ramp, the other stood in front of the Irken in the white uniform.

"Sir, Russian Special Forces operators are in the perimeter. Eyeball detected a major increase of activity in the vicinity, there could be more coming."

The Irken in white simply shrugged and gestured for the Irken in front of him to board the ship. The blue eyed Irken turned to face Dib's location once more, and for a moment, that gaze left a hollow wake in Dib's chest. It felt as if the Irken had looked _right _into Dib's eyes with his own cold alien ones. A moment later, the sound of the Voot Cruiser's engines firing up sent the Irken into a pivot as he started for the ramp of the craft.

"Tell me you got a picture." Said Dib as he leaned closer to Tristan and whispered loud enough to be heard over the engines.

"That I did, Captain." Replied Tristan, tapping his Cross-Com with his index finger.

Dib nodded in satisfaction and got on his radio as the Voot Cruiser's rear ramp closed and got airborne, it's nose pitching forward as it began to move forward.

"Vadim, what the hell was that!?"

"Saw an opening in the window of opportunity, Captain." Yelled Vadim over the gunfire coming through the radio simultaneously as it echoed through the air. "They got close to the weapon. We hit the switch on them and killed five gun drivers. Sweeping up four more, could be more coming. I recommend you get that weapon offline while we have the site busy, out."

"You heard the man Volker, move on that weapon. I'll watch your back while you get those charges in place."

"Copy that Captain." Tristan nodded and shot up from his position and started for the weapon, Dib following close, scanning the area high and low for any enemies.

"Captain, it's Schleck, over."

"Ghostex Lead copies," Said Dib, setting down behind a hard case crate behind some sandbag like objects set up around the plasma cannon. "What you got?"

"I'm on the roof of the complex overseeing the site. You've got a whole mess of Irkens mobilizing a few hundred meters from your location, I'd advise for you to bug out as soon as possible."

"Copy that, Schleck. Ghostex Lead out." Dib turned to face Tristan, who was studying an odd looking device that had been retrieved from a black satchel. "How are we doing with those explosives Volker?" ASked Dib in urgency, facing forward again, sweeping the area with the barrel of his rifle.

"I can't arm it." Said Tristan.

"We don't have time for screw ups Tristan. What do you mean you can't arm it?"

"I can read the Russian, it's just this other type I can't read. And the trigger system is nothing I've ever seen before."

Dib snapped around. "Let me see."

Dib stuck out his hand and took a hold of the tile thin square packet of explosive material with some strange box with wires attached to the front and back of the packet. Dib could read the Cyrillic type, telling him the TNT equivalent force of the packet as well as which way was the front and back. But some strange alien print was on the box, which Dib assumed were the more vital instructions. Dib didn't recognize it though, if it were Irken, he'd have it armed in no time, but it wasn't Irken at all.

"Vadim," Began Dib though his mic. "How the hell do we arm this thing?"

"Take the damn-" Vadim's transmission cut into static as a light of energized blue plasma erupted about the same spot where Vadim would be held up. "Turn the handle clockwise, push it inward and close the clapper, out!"

Dib cut the link between him and Vadim and dropped the strange device to the ground. He flipped the charge around and grasped the handle on the back and twisted it, pushed it inward and it locked with a click. He frantically searched the device before spotting another handle sticking out the side at an angle, he pushed it inward and the device emitted an electronic beep that repeated in one second intervals.

"Go, go!" Cried Dib as he pushed Tristan forward, both of them sprinting further away from the emplaced weapon at a rate of knots. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. The brilliant light erupted from behind Dib with a boom and a shock wave filled with heat lifted him off his feet and sent him hard onto the concrete. He, as he hoped Tristan knew as well that they couldn't stay there much longer, so he got up on his feet and helped Tristan up by his arm and pushed him forward again as he looked back to the burning wreckage and cued his radio.

"Lakota, Schleck, this is Ghostex Lead. Secondary objectives have been destroyed! Meet us at the infiltration point with cell two, out." Dib ran forward a moment before he looked back once more and activated the mic once more. "Zavezda cell one, this is Ghostex Lead, we're making our way to the sewers, over?"

There was no response from Vadim, and there was no firefight audible to Dib, so his first thought was that they had either been captured and killed, and unfortunately, he didn't have the time to check.

"Captain?" Asked Tristan.

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>"Captain, it's the-"<p>

"_I know_." Interrupted an old, Russian speaking Captain.

The silent tension on the bridge of the Belov Class heavy nuclear powered missile cruiser could not be anymore deafening than it was as the ship's Captain simply stood in front of the main viewing window with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Sir, we need orders." Echoed a voice in the long slender bridge.

Captain first rank Tikachenko, with his three large gold stars placed in a triangle formation upon his black and and double yellow striped shoulder boards simply nodded. Another man standing by the Captains chair near the rear of the bridge marched briskly toward Captain Tikachenko and when he had reached him, he simply shot a shocked look at the Captain.

"_Sir_," Whispered the man. "The crew needs orders, _now_."

"The situation is under control, Karakayev."

"Sir, I have-"

"I said," Interrupted Tikachenko. "_The situation is under control_."

"Captain, I don't mean to-"

"Captain Second Rank Karakayev." Boomed Tikachenko's voice throughout the bridge in Russian. He took a moment to collect himself and spoke in an easier voice. "Contact the _Lenin_ and the _Vlasov_, tell Captain's Kadurin and Zhilin to have their weapons and supporting ships at the ready. Master At Arms Batov?" Called Tikachenko, fixing his gaze backward.

A man stood up from his station and the sound of boots coming in contact with the steel floor echoed throughout the bridge multiple times and rapidly as the man in his black uniform and matching black visor hat came thundering down the center of the bridge, where Captain's Tikacheno and Karakayev stood. Master At Arms Batov reached the two Captain's, quickly snapping to and saluting, his concerned eyes facing outside the ships viewing window.

"Prepare the men," Tikachenko began. "Have all defensive weapons online. Arm the missiles and have the men in allgun batteries ready to fire upon my command." Tikachenko turned to Karakayev. "Captain, you have your own orders."

"Yes, sir!" Both Captain Second Rank Karakayev and Master At Arms Batov called in unison and snapped to, finishing off with sharp salutes before pivoting on their black boots and running as the bridge began to fill with chatter among one another. Karakayev was already yelling orders over the collective voices as the men behind the voices started tapping on their keyboards at a million words per minute, and Batov returned to his station, speaking into the intercom system and activating the general quarters alarm.

"Captain!" Cried Karakayev. Tikachenko stayed his feet and with his hands still clasped behind his back looked over his left shoulder and raised a questioning brow. "Kadurin and Zhilin are making preparations and deploying all fighters and support craft to the forward line. Master At Arms Batov has already gotten word out and self preparations are nearly complete. Attack stance will be made in thirty seconds!"

Captain Tikachenko simply nodded and looked back into the darkness. The darkness that reminded him of those days he would spend in the dark, crammed subbasements of the bunkers, fearing the moment when an Irken Death Squad would find them and dispatch a plasma grenade through the front door, and before anybody knew what was truly happening, himself along with the rest of them would be dead.

_'On my mother's grave, you're not breaking this line.' _Thought Tikachenko as he squinted into the darkness and into the face of death that was approaching at a rapid rate.

"Captain Karakayev," Called Tikachenko. "Are the main weapons primed?"

"Yes, Captain." Replied Karakayev, just as the bridge's floor began to vibrate, a tell tail sign of another ship within close proximity of the bridge passing either by her side or overhead. Just as Tikachenko thought so to himself, a smaller ship in comparison to his as well as Captain's Kadurin and Zhilin's ships roared over head and into the viewing window with a flight of space and orbital capable fighter craft, and before long, the main viewing window was filled with a fleet of supporting ships and fighter craft... It reminded Tikachenko heavily of the adversaries fleet ahead of him.

"Sir, Vice-Admiral Kozlov of the _Spire _as well as well as Rear-Admiral Kovpak from the _Joseph V. Stalin _Carrier Strike Group will be joining us shortly. They estimate twenty minutes."

"Good. We'll need all the help we can get... It appears they've added a few additions to their armada as well."

"Of course, Captain."

"Sir!" Cried a voice from the station to the left of Tikachenko.

Tikachenko turned his body to find an operator with his black uniform and shoulder boards with three gold bars on them without any visible stars, a Petty Officer First Class. The man was standing with his arm raised in the air, the mic of his headset raised above the single electronic monocle, his HUD to help him maintain other sections without having to switch screens at his terminal.

"Yes, radar officer?" Asked Tikachenko, waiting for the Petty Officer to make an announcement over the now lighter chatter.

"I've detected one more Bludgeon Class accompanied by three Providence Class cruisers with escorts just off to the main Armada's east, approximately seven kilometers until they are within range to support _The Massive_!"

"Sir!" Cried another voice, and soon after, another man stood to his feet. "_Tima_ of the forward craft has detected weapons charge. _The Massive _is preparing an attack!"

A hallow wake burrowed itself within Tikachenko's chest left him breathless as he couldn't believe how quick the Irkens were to attack... But then again, they _were _Irken.

"Master At Arms, open doors one through sixteen and engage the nuclear missiles! I want priority on the Bludgeon Class ahead of us!" Tikachenkov turned to face the rear of the bridge and started to make his way to the command chair. "Karakayev, get on the horn and tell Captain's Kadurin and Zhilin to focus their nuclear weapons on those Ring Cutter's, if they get into formation they can rip the _Minsk _apart!"

"Yes, sir!" Replied Karakayev.

"Sir, all defensive weapons are active. All gun batteries are prepared to fire once we are within range!"

Tikachenko nodded briskly in Batov's direction as he activated the shutters on the main viewing window, he looked outward once more as the shutters slowly close, a holographic image bringing up a virtual feed of the Irken Armada ahead of them.

_'And so our dangerous game of chess begins.' _Thought Tikachenko.

(End Chapter)


End file.
